The Passing of the Evenstar
by Deepy
Summary: After the death of her husband, Arwen goes back to Lothlorien to achieve two things: to mourn and to die.


Disclaimer: I own absolutely, positively nothing!  Not even the keyboard in which I'm typing this in (I didn't buy it, it's not mine, even though I use it the most)!  

A/N: Well, this can be considered a companion piece to "The Coming of the Evenstar."  You do not have to read that to read this though, though I recommend that you do so that…well, you can see my shot at a happy piece!  This one's more angsty than anything I have ever written to date.  But, it was fun.  I took the liberty of borrowing some lines in the Appendices for the first scene, hope no one minds.  Many thanks to my wonderful beta Bella, now known now as MusedePandora, you should go read her Legolas/OC story, it's your duty to!  And she actually told me she liked this piece!  Now I know I've done something right!  Okay, enough jabbering, on with the story.   

The Passing of the Evenstar

It was time. The air in the chamber was still; no sunlight was allowed in the room.  Instead, it was lit by many candles yet lacking in warmth. As the seconds flew by, the King Aragorn Elessar was slowly passing away. The years have stripped him of his youth, his hair was almost all grey now, wrinkles scattered here and there upon his handsome face.  But with age, brought him the honour and majesty awarded to a great king. Yet now, that time was almost over and a piece of Arwen's heart was dying with him. She could do nothing to stop him from passing. She could not even coax him into staying for one more day, one more hour, one more moment. "Now that the hour has come, I do not wish to part from you, my dear husband."

He looked at her, his dark eyes gazing deep into her grey ones.  "Would you rather I wait until I wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless?"  

She shook her head, for then she could not bear to see her husband in such a stage.  No, he had always done what he had set out to do; nothing would ever change that, not even when that thing was death.  There was nothing to do now except watch and cherish every living moment she had with him. But a glimmer of hope seemed to come to him and he spoke to her thus, "You can leave now, repent and go to the Havens, where our days spent together will be evergreen, no more then a memory."  

Her lips curved up into a sad smile and she shook her head once again.  

"No, when you and I stood upon the hill of Cerin Amroth and forsook both the Shadow and Twilight, I agreed then to follow you wherever you may go, to stay with you forever more.  I can not leave you and go on alone in this world, and there is not ship here now that will bear me there." That choice had long since been made and there was nothing she could do to change it; she did not even wish to.  He laid there now, his breathing hardly audible, holding onto her hand.  

The warmth in them had always been a source of comfort for her, of reassurance that someone would always be there, when she needed him.  Whenever she had felt the loss in her heart for her father, or when she thought of how she would never again see her mother, that same warmth that came from being with him, from touching his hand, had lessened the sadness and kept the despair at bay.  Now, that warmth was still there, but it provided no comfort for her, merely a sign that when he left, that warmth would be forever gone. And she would be lost without it.  

A sigh passed from his lips, "Then it seems that we will both travel down the same path in the end, though we came into this world differently.  We shall meet again my love."  He raised a hand to softly stroke her cheek. Arwen could feel the tears threatening to fall.  No, she would not let him see her in grief; a guilty heart would plague him if he saw her cry.  She did not want that, not when he was so close to leaving her.  Thus, she used all her power to keep the tears at bay, to shed them when she was alone, where no one would be there to hear.  

"I pray that we will, in the hall of Mandos."  

"Yes, yes.  We are not bond forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than a memory," he said.  He gazed at her one last time, taking in the beauty of her face, still so young after all these years, as young as when they had first met in the gardens of Rivendell.  It seemed like so long ago now.  "Farewell, my Undómiel."  

"Estel, Estel!"  

He took her hand to his lips and kissed them before closing his eyes, exhaling softly.  She knew that he was gone, but could not help but shake him softly, willing his eyes to open and to look at her once again. It was to no avail: he was gone. Arwen did not know how long she sat there by his side, looking at him, but without any tears in her eyes.  It was not yet time to mourn.

* 

When she emerged from the chamber many moments later, the sun had already set. She walked slowly, with no direction, not caring where she was going. Nothing could lighten the feeling of sorrow in her heart, of loss that could never be filled. The grief threatened to tear her heart in two; it pierced the fragile organ with its cold tip. She had forsaken her immortality long ago but a part of her was still connected to her Elven kin, and the grief she felt was beyond that felt by mortals. And no matter how much she wanted to leave this world, it would not let her, not yet. Her fëa would not allow it. She walked in silence, not caring of the glances that came her way. All who saw her could see the change that had came over their queen. The radiance and light had gone from her eyes, leaving them dim, looking but not really seeing anything.  

Both Legolas and Gimli, Aragorn's closest friends, saw her thus. "How are you faring Arwen," asked Legolas, seeing her eyes.  He could feel the intense grief pouring from her and knew that his own could not match hers.  They were close friends, but not as close as his friendship with Aragorn. Though he had always been there when she needed someone to confide in, but he could see she would not confide in him now.

"I am not as well as before, but I will be fine," she said, looking at them but not seeing them.

"If there is anything we can do, lady," said Gimli.  She shook her head.

"I will be fine.  He was so happy to get the chance to see the two of you for the last time, and I am also."  

Both of them looked at her, understanding the meaning behind her words.

"Where then, will you go?" asked Legolas.  

"I do not know, yet.  Just somewhere where I can be alone, at peace.  I am tired now and will go rest."  She raised her hand to touch the Elf's cheek, and the Dwarf's.  "The best luck to the both of you.  If you should see my brothers, please tell them that I love the both of them very much.  When you see her, please tell my mother that I am sorry for not being able to go to her."  She smiled at them.  "_Namárië, __mellyn nín_."  And they looked after her as she walked down the hall, not realizing that this would be the last time they would ever see her. 

* 

Her son came up to her as she reached her chamber. She looked at him; he looked so much like his father, but she could also see a part of herself in him.  Though he did not wear his crown, the hour was too soon.  "Mother, is father . . . Are you well?"

She nodded, raising a hand to stroke his cheek.  "You are a man now, and you must take over your father's duty as king.  Alas, as I will not be there to guide you, but you know what you must do."  

"Yes, but, mother, where are you going?"   

She smiled sadly, he was unsure of himself, and he looked at her as if he were still a child.  He was not a child now; he was a man and did not need her anymore.  She was not needed here anymore, in this place that had been the home of her and Aragorn for so many years, now it seemed so foreign.  She no longer belonged here. Her time was over in this world that was being dominated by Man.  Without him, this place seemed so strange. 

"Home," she replied, "I am going home."  Where was home?  What place in this world could she call home now, for wherever Aragorn was, that was the place she called home.  Now he was gone, where would she go?  She kissed her son's cheek and walked into her chamber, closing the door.  That was the last Eldarion saw of his mother, though he did not know it.  He stood outside her chamber and finally, turned and left.  

Arwen leaned against the door, looking at the bed that she and her husband had shared for so many years. This was the place that held so many memories, where they had begotten their children.  So many mornings she would wake to find him looking down at her, not wanting to leave from that place. It was cold now; no one would be there tonight to hold her close as she slept, no contact to soothe her aching heart. As she looked at that bed now, Arwen could not bring herself to lay down upon it. 

She walked over to the window, looking out at the stars.  The moon was shining, though it was not full: half-light, half-dark.  The stars were shining tonight, almost brighter than normal.  In her youth, when she had been alone, waiting and praying that Aragorn was safe, they had always given her comfort. Tonight, there was nothing. In this room, she could not even weep, for there would be someone who would hear her. Where then, could she go to mourn?  

She looked into the distance, seeing nothing. She looked into the gardens, the last of the leaves were falling from the trees, leaving them bare. Then it struck her. Lórien! She would go to Lothlórien; that was home. There, she would be alone. Oh, how much she longed to go back to the land of her youth, the land of her mother's kin. The beautiful mallorns, the niphredils, the elanors . . .How she wanted to be amongst them again, to take in their rich scent and feel herself be at peace. Yes, she would leave. She turned her gaze to the bed, tired, but could not sleep. Not in that bed. 

*

And so, in the darkness of night, she walked soundlessly into the rooms of her children, watching her daughters sleep as she often did when they were mere infants and toddlers. They were each blooming into beautiful maidens that would surely win the hands of prestigious lords; they would grow up to be happy. And it saddened Arwen's heart that she would not be there to see the birth of her grandchildren.  One by one, she said her goodbyes to them as they slept, not knowing that when they awoken, she would be gone.  She stayed the longest in her youngest daughter's room, for she was the most gentle and small out of all her siblings. She reminded Arwen of herself in her youth.  How she loved her little one.  

Such a feeling took her back to when she was young, when Elrond had always watched over her, and cared for her.  How much grief had laid in their parting so many years ago, her ada had loved her so, and she could never brush away the feeling of guilt that had always resided in her heart from the parting.  She had hurt him greatly, but could do nothing to amend it.  

Lastly, she said goodbye to her son, wishing him luck in his future years, praying that he will be a good king. Then, in night's silence she brought some food from the kitchen and took a horse from the stables.  No one saw her; she blended into the night in her black dress, veil, and cloak of mourning. Then, taking one last look at the palace, Queen Arwen Evenstar rode away forever, never to be seen again in the eyes of living Man.

*

Lothlórien had always been beautiful all through the years. Every time she returned, she was greeted with the same sight, which was the source of comfort for all Elves. The power of Nenya had kept the place from fading with time. Now, it was gone and all that was left were the fading mallorns, whose leaves were scattered across the forest floor.  She could feel them slowly dying, their silver leaves turning brown, the trunks had lost their glimmer. The Elves were gone and with them, the magic that had kept the forest alive.    

Winter was almost coming, and with it the air became colder, more frigid. But Arwen did not mind the cold; she hardly felt it and it seemed small compared to her body, which was left cold as well. She hardly slept now; with sleep, came dreams of the life that had been stripped from her and she would wake with newfound grief. It had taken many days to travel but she was there and the moment she reached that place, the emotions she had kept at bay had spilled out of her in vicious waves. No one was there to hear the anguished weeping of the woman who had lost everything; they had all left long ago. Even Celeborn was gone. No one but the birds and they would be silent as she wept. Then, when she slept, they would sing their tunes of sorrow. When she awoke, the tears would come anew. As the days, the weeks, passed, Arwen felt herself becoming more tired, exhausted with life. Yet, she waited, and the winter finally came. She found herself watching the snow falling, covering everything in white. When they touched her skin, they did not melt, but would stay there and finally, fall to the ground.   

Then, one day, she woke up. The night before, there had been no moon. The exhaustion threatened to overtake her. The sun shone on the snow, melting it slowly. And with its' rays, brought a newfound hope into her heart, it warmed her skin. Arwen stood. It was time; slowly, she walked through the woods and the trees seemed to bend out of the way for her. The birds were silent, watching her every step. They would not sing that day, as they did not sing on the day she entered the world, and would not sing when she left it.  

She slowly walked up the hill of Cerin Amroth. The niphredils and elanors were blooming upon the hill; the sun had melted the snow that had covered them. This place held so many dear memories. She reached the hill and looked towards the east, then to the west.  It seemed like a lifetime ago when she had forsaken both the Darkness and Twilight, where she had bound herself to her love, thus, accepting and embracing the Doom of Man. Now, she stood upon the hill with no regret. Her time in this world was complete, there was nothing left for her. Alone and still, a tear fell from her eyes, falling onto the flowers. Then, she laid herself upon the hill, she was so terribly exhausted, and closed her eyes.  And with a sigh, Arwen Undómiel, upon whose face bore the beauty of Lúthien Tinúviel, left this world and all was silent thereafter.  

*

Many days later, after having passed by Minas Tirith and finding out that she had gone, Elladan and Elrohir finally reached Lothlórien after a long journey. When they arrived, they found the woods empty, the trees had been stripped of all their leaves and their sister was not there as they had hoped. They looked for her, calling her name but to no avail.  Finally, by midday, they came upon the hill where she laid, her body cold and still, almost completely covered by snow.  On her face rested a serene smile.  

"Arwen…" said Elladan quietly, knowing that they were too late. They had been unable to say good-bye to her, now she was beyond their reach forever.  

"We are too late, brother," said Elrohir, looking sorrowfully on his sister's face, so fair, even in death. "I wish we could have been there to stop her."

"We could not stop her even if we had been."  

"I suppose you are right. Alas, for the Evenstar is gone. I will forever miss her."

"As will I." A few tears escaped their eyes, landing upon her face, sliding to the ground.  They brushed the snow away from her face and from her dark hair. Then, in silence, they buried her beneath the ground and covered her grave with flowers that were blooming all around.  "_Namárië_, _thêl tithen_."  

Standing together, their voices echoed through the woods in a song of mourning, the same song of parting Beren had sang to Lúthien long ago.

"Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,   
for ever blest, since here did lie   
and here with lissom limbs did run   
beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,   
Lúthien Tinúviel more fair than mortal tongue can tell.   
Though all to ruin fell the world   
and were dissolved and backward hurled   
unmade into the old abyss,   
yet were its making good, for this--   
the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea--   
that Lúthien for a time should be."

End

_"Namárië, mellyn nín"_ – "Farewell, my friends."

_"Namárië_, _thêl tithen."_ – "Farewell, little sister."

Song used: "Song of Parting" – _The Silmarillion, _ch. 19: Of Beren and Lúthien, pg. 178 

A/N: So…what did you think?  Please press that little button down there and leave me a note.  Please!   Oh pretty please!  


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